


Waking Up, No. 5

by stonegirl77



Series: Waking Up [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hospitals, Injury, Robin Hood: Men In Tights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 20:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2746766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonegirl77/pseuds/stonegirl77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader wakes up in the hospital next to Clint Barton...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waking Up, No. 5

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this has taken me so long to write! I'm pleased with the way it turned out, though, even though it ended up being rather long for a oneshot.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Clint was a mess. It was the first thing I noticed, waking up in the hospital. I looked left and was glad Clint was out. His entire body, what I could see of it, was covered in scratches and gouges. What with those and his arm in a cast - and wouldn’t that be fun, dealing with a recovering Clint who couldn’t even shoot a bow - he looked like a half-wrapped mummy. 

I struggled up to one elbow, wincing. I hurt. But I always hurt, after a fight. I was only an Agent. No superserum, no magical powers, no suit. Just a normal powered human. Like Clint. We nursed our wounds, we were sent to the hospital after the world almost ended. We spent so much time in hospital wards together, risking our lives together, it was hardly any wonder I’d fallen for the man. Hard. Not that I tried to let it show. 

That was the other reason I was glad Barton was unconscious. I could, for once, show how worried about him I was. The idiot. Who knew what he’d done this time. I’d couldn’t quite remember what had happened. Well. I’d probably remember it eventually, and for now we were both in the hospital. Again. I let my eyes wander at random, taking in his profile, nose not broken, this time, but with a cut clear across the bridge, his arms, covered in bandages, making them even bulkier than usual. He looked awful, and wonderful.

I leaned back in my bed, trying to see what I’d done to myself. Headache, check. Probably a concussion, then. Bruises, head to toe. Possibly a sprained ankle, judging by the brace, and, as I settled, bruised ribs. Not a bad tally, for me. Two Armageddons ago, I’d come out with a broken leg. At least my bones seemed to be intact this time around. 

“_____?” I turned my head. Clint was awake.

“Hi moron.”

“‘Sup idiot,” he sassed back, smiling at me. My heart flipped and I thanked any gods that were listening that I wasn’t hooked up to a heart-rate monitor just now. I smiled back. 

“Dammit, Barton. Can’t you ever save the world without landing in the hospital?” That was Natasha, striding in like she owned the place. Which she might have - you never knew what exactly she considered a “diversified portfolio.” She glanced over at me. “_________. Nice to see you’re awake.” I just nodded at her. It was best to let her yell at Clint for a few minutes. “What the hell did you think you were doing?” she said, rounding on Barton again.

“Um, my job.” Clint was always glib in the face of danger. 

“I saw what you did. That was not your job. That was reckless. And stupid.” I was studying Clint’s expression. He looked… chagrined? Now I was confused. What had Clint done? 

“Um, Natasha?” I said, drawing fire. “Care to explain?” She and Barton just looked at me. I looked back, blankly. My memory was a little fuzzy about what had actually happened, thanks to the concussion. Romanov shook her head. 

“It doesn’t matter.” She moved away. “I doubt I’d get through that thick skull of his anyway.” She was at the door. “You’re getting released as soon as the docs give the all clear - both of you.” And she was gone.

“That was weird,” I said to no one in particular. 

“That’s Tasha for you.” Clint was back to his normal flippant self in the bed next to mine. 

“So, can _you_ tell me what made Natasha flip out this time?” He just grinned at me, and I wanted nothing more than to bang my head repeatedly against the nearest wall. The man was going to be the death of me.

“She’s just pissed I ate the last of the Poptarts. Now Thor’s going to go postal.”

“Right.”

“When do you think we can blow this joint?”

 

..................................

 

 

 

“You know you don’t have to wheel me around, right?” Clint asked, craning his neck to look at me. It was my turn to smile smugly. 

“I know I don’t have to,” I told him. “But I want to.” I could take care of him for a change - it was a nice feeling. 

“Barton!” Sam Wilson had just appeared from around a corner. “Nice to see you made it back.”

“Almost, Sam,” Clint drawled. “Almost.”

“Welcome back, Barton,” Steve Rogers said, coming up behind us. “Nice to see you too, _______.”

“Hey Cap,” was Clint’s reply.

“Same here, Captain,” I said, more primly. 

“Natasha’s still angry with you,” Steve warned Clint. 

“Still?”

“You can’t pull a stunt like that and just expect all of us to keep quiet,” Steve told him. I was confused, again. No one would tell me what had happened to make them all angry at Barton. They just looked at me meaningfully, like Steve was just doing. “Anyway,” Cap continued, preceding us into the briefing room. I pushed Clint to his usual seat and slid into the chair next to him with a wince. Of course Barton noticed.

“You ok?” he asked softly. 

“I’m good, Barton,” I told him, smiling briefly. I was trying to get off the pain meds as quickly as possible, but that meant, obviously, more pain. I’d cope. “Don’t worry about me - clean up your own mess, whatever the heck it is.”

“You still don’t remember?” That was Steve. I shook my head. He just smiled faintly. “Well, you’re about to find out.” The other Avengers filed in, Natasha chatting with Thor, the Science Bros coming in, still engrossed with something Tony had on his tablet. Agent Hill came in last, in a hurry as usual.

“All right, guys,” she said, calling the briefing to order. “Let’s go over what happened last week, shall we?” I sat back, acutely aware, as usual, of Barton sitting next to me. Hill went over the beginning of the battle, using comms recordings, cellphone videos, etc, from the part I’d actually been conscious for. Agent Hill and I had arrived at the same time as the Avengers, and we’d pitched in to help the confused dinosaur-like aliens from destroying the Met. Mostly, anyway. Thor got kudos for using Mjolnir on the aliens without causing too much auxiliary damage. Tony got told off again for disobeying orders. I didn’t know why Steve insisted on micromanaging Tony the way he did - Tony was going to do what he liked in any case. 

About an hour in - and why did debriefs end up taking about triple the time of the actual action anyway? - we reached the end of what I remembered. I’d been pinned down behind a hot dog stand, and the dino-aliens had been closing in. Then one of them had thrown a piece of debris at the stand, and I’d been knocked over, unconscious. As always, it was a little creepy to see my legs, poking out from under the stand, not moving, knowing I had been helpless, fresh meat. I reminded myself that it had all turned out all right. The dinos were advancing on me, and I suddenly heard a yell from Clint. I looked at him, but he was watching the footage, face expressionless. It had been the recording. 

I watched as Clint swung in from his position on top of the Met, actually kicking the dino that was about to get to me. Half a second later, and the dino and Clint were thrown aside as Tony’s disrupter threw them over. Clint landed funny and rolled, clearly unconscious. I understood, now, why everyone was so mad at Clint. He’d abandoned his position, against orders, giving up covering everyone’s backs, to save my sorry ass, which Tony already had saved. And then he got caught in the crossfire.

I looked straight ahead, trying to get my thoughts under control. Hill started laying into Clint for his idiocy, with the others chiming in, but I’d heard it all already. I had other stuff I needed to consider. Was I mad at Barton? Definitely. He’d been an idiot. Tony had had me covered. But he’d been an idiot to save my life. I couldn’t fault him for that. And Tony had only had my back because he’d been in a different position than Steve had specified. 

But Barton had known that anyway, because he’d been on top of the Met. He’d seen everything. And still made sure I was safe. So yeah, I was angry with the guy. He was reckless with his life. But he’d helped to save mine. So I wasn’t _that_ angry. I finally dared to look at Clint. 

He was looking back at me as I turned my head, smiling slightly. I’d lost track of the conversation, so I didn’t quite know what the context was for his next remark. 

“I had to, Nat. You know.”

The superspy sighed. “Fine.”

“Now if we’re all done yelling at the archer?” he said, trying and failing to look pathetically injured in his wheelchair. 

Hill sighed. “We’re done. Do you promise not to do it again?”

“I promise he won’t do it again,” I put in. I’d be damned if I put Clint in that kind of position again. Everyone looked at me. Steve looked like he wanted to say something. Tony smirked. Natasha rolled her eyes. And Clint? I was too much of a chicken to see how he reacted. 

“Very well.” Hill didn’t sound like she bought it, but it didn’t matter, really. “I guess we’re done.” Everyone got up, except for Thor, who’d been leaning against a wall anyway. I levered myself out of a chair, trying not to wince again. Definitely time for pain meds. Clint noticed anyway, though.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked, louder this time. Loud enough that Cap, curse him, heard. 

“What does he mean?” he added as I glared at the archer. It was easier to look at Clint when I was annoyed with him. 

“I don’t like to take lots of painkillers,” I said, glad the room was almost empty now. “They make me foggy. I’d rather deal with the pain.”

“You know, doctors prescribe painkillers for a reason,” Steve said, reasonably.

“And I don’t like taking them for a reason too,” I said, taking the brake off of Clint’s wheelchair. “I’m fine.” 

 

....................................

 

 

 

I’d managed to get Clint settled on a couch in the common area of Avengers Tower. He’d bitched and moaned about sitting still, as expected, so I’d bribed him with Robin Hood: Men in Tights. Anything Mel Brooks usually shut the archer up, but his favourite movie? With added homemade popcorn? A winner every time. 

“Get over here,” he said as the movie started. I was sitting on the recliner, curled up into a ball. I looked up at him. “I feel like I have to shout to talk to you.”

“Fine.” I got up and plonked myself down on the couch. Not quite next to him, but not quite on the other side of the couch either. He put the big bowl of popcorn in the gap between us. 

“Dig in,” he said, going back to the movie. “You make good popcorn.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

As the movie went on, the popcorn bowl migrated into my lap as we moved closer to each other. I couldn’t tell who was doing the moving - maybe I moved a centimetre closer, then Clint moved a centimetre. Whatever the case, by the end credits, our thighs were touching, and Clint had an arm slung over the edge of the couch. I went for the last handful of popcorn at the same time as Clint, and our hands linked. I turned my head. 

“You know you’re an idiot, right?” I said, and immediately regretted it. Why the hell had I just said that. 

He didn’t look angry though. “I know,” he replied, comfortably. “Why this time?” Our hands were still intertwined, in the popcorn bowl, but neither of us seemed inclined to move. 

“What you did, last week.” I wanted to look somewhere, anywhere else as I said it, but I kept my eyes glued to his face. “I don’t want you risking your life for me. It seems silly.” The arm that was on the edge of the couch was suddenly around my shoulders. My eyes widened as I was crushed against him.

“Don’t say that,” he practically growled. “Saving you is definitely not silly.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. He was so solid - I was hardly a lightweight, but I felt tiny in his arms. 

“I just don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”

“What about last month, when you broke your leg because you were diverting fire from me? Or when you almost broke your collarbone last month when I was trying to help Tony? We’re in this together.” He spoke softly, practically whispering in my ear. I tilted my face so I could see his, inches away from mine.

That’s when Tony strolled in.

“Nice one, Barton!” he hooted. “I won the pool.” Clint closed his eyes, arms tightening around me. I death-glared at Tony.

“Do you mind, Stark?” I asked, not willing to move an inch. 

“Haven’t closed the deal yet?” he asked cheerfully, blissfully unaware of the payback he had coming for this. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave.” He chortled as he turned around. “I can’t wait to tell Steve.” I dropped my head back on Clint’s shoulder and closed my eyes. Stark had the world’s worst timing. 

When I opened my eyes, Clint was looking at me again. I didn’t recognise the expression.

“What was that about?” I asked him. He took a breath, and I felt his heartbeat speed up. 

“I may have mentioned to Natasha, in a moment of weakness, that I might,” he paused, then started again. “That I might have feelings for you.” I felt a smile growing on my face. “And of course, Stark heard - I may or may not have been drunk at the time - and the great Barton Romance pool was born. It’s already gone bust once.” I was grinning outright now, and Clint was smiling back. “So I take it the feeling is mutual?”

“I don’t end up curled up with every archer who saves my life,” I told him. If I grinned any wider, my face would split in half. I started to close the gap between us, and he met me half-way, lips meeting in a kiss. A fairly chaste kiss, but perfect for our first. Our second, and third, and subsequent others weren’t quite as G-rated.

As soon as I had some brain function back, I whispered in Clint’s ear between kisses to his jaw. “I vote we tell Tony nothing happened tonight. Screw over the pool again.” His laugh rumbled underneath me, and he pulled my head back for another real kiss.


End file.
